


Planet Earth is Blue (And There's Nothing I Can Do)

by Pfefferminztea



Series: Gravitas-Verse [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: F/M, azureshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5902426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pfefferminztea/pseuds/Pfefferminztea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back to living with her parents after years  on her own, keeping up a fake relationship with her gay best friend, and possibly developing a crush on one or two of her other best friends... Anzu has a lot to talk through.<br/>Good thing Seto owes her about five years of open ears and sympathetic nodding.<br/>(Or whatever equivalent he can come up with.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Planet Earth is Blue (And There's Nothing I Can Do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azurite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurite/gifts).



> This was originally a standalone-ish one shot that I wrote in German, and went by the name Gravitas. When I started writing the other fics in this series, I kept referring back to it, so it was finally time to translate the thing (and integrate it into the timeline that I'm building, which means added details like Mai's pregnancy). It also clearly needed a new name so I wouldn't have a one shot AND a series by the same name, cause that's just plain confusing. 
> 
> Sooo because I am shit with titles, this is brought to you curtesy of Space Oddity, which works well because a) the obvious blue/azureshipping thing and b) Anzu is watching '3' by Tom Tykwer, which has Space Oddity in its soundtrack and was the film that introduced me to the song. Oh, and also because '3' was the first time I ever shipped a polya constellation, little did I know how much copyshipping would own my ass one day.
> 
> What else? Oh, I'm still flattered that Azurite took notice of this humble fanfic-verse, hence the gift, I hope you don't mind/hope you like it. 
> 
> I changed the pronouns on this about five million times (from 'I' which I originally used for the German version to 'you' to 'she' and back again), so I hopehopehope they all match now but please let me know if I missed something!

Years ago, when Anzu was still a dancer, she’d once had the misfortune to start her period on the day of a big performance. Back then, that meant horrible cramps, mysterious gassiness, sudden nausea. The perfect state to curl up in bed and only come out once everything is over.

She danced anyway. And nobody even suspected a thing. But she never felt as much excruciating pain as in those fifteen minutes, every fiber of her attention trained on keeping a smile on her face, an easy, matter-of-course-ness in her step and a gracefulness suggesting she had done this every day of her life.

With Mai’s pregnancy becoming more and more obvious every day – both in the way she looks and in how much they hear her talk about it – her parents are becoming harder and harder to lie to. She knows they mean no harm. And it’s probably only natural that, upon hearing that two of her best friends are starting a family together, they are becoming more and more curious about her own relationship. But increasingly, the air at home is getting too thin for her and her lies get stuck in her throat – even though she decided a long time ago that she could spare everyone a lot of pain if she just tells them what they want to hear.

Anzu stands by that decision.

But.

It is an entirely different thing to practice this in e-mails and the occasional Skype call – or while living under her parents’ roof. If she has to see her mother’s overjoyed face one more time while she talks about her perfect daughter with the scholarship in Germany and the upgraded playschool romance with her best friend, she’ll probably  get blisters on her entire body, possibly spelling ‘liar’ on her forehead.

Before that happens, Anzu snatches the nearest purse from her childhood closet – a fake leather thing in a garish red that is about as ‘her’ at this point as the long-gone crush on her best friend – dumps her keys, wallet and phone in it and heads out of the door.  
“I’m going to Yugi’s,” she yells in passing at her parents, who are enjoying one of their gameshows in the living room. That’s a lie – Yugi has way better things to do tonight than listen to her whine about this screwed-up life of hers. He probably has better things to do _every_ night. But who cares? Like so many, this lie is seductively easy to tell.

Instead of heading in the direction of the game shop, she slowly heads towards the park, wandering aimlessly, without a clue about what to do with her evening. Sure, she could visit Katsuya, the only person besides Yugi who is in on their little secret. Actually, maybe Mai knows, as well. She hasn’t  mentioned it to her, but Katsuya might have. After all, it’s not like they explicitly asked him to keep it from her. And Mai would understand what it means to be keeping up appearances for the sake of the right results. In any case, things have been… weird between Anzu and Katsuya ever since the night he heard about Mai’s pregnancy. Or at least they are weird for _her_. _He_ doesn’t seem to have a problem chalking up their kiss to some genius shock therapy on her part. She isn’t entirely sure she can take credit for that, if considering how often she still gets the urge to repeat the experience.

Just another emotional minefield, though different from the one she escaped at home.

There aren’t many people around at this time of day – it’s going to be dark soon, and the temperature is already dropping. A few hundred meters away, a lonely couple on a picnic blanket is still lost in each other’s gazes, apparently not realizing how late it is getting. In spite of herself, Anzu finds herself watching them – well, watching the guy. The woman she isn’t very interested in, but he has a nice profile. And, full disclosure, also a really nice ass.

 _Listen to me._  
She’s beginning to  sound just like the girls she used to despise in school, the ones who apparently took their gross boyfriends as a model and started treating people as little more than sexual objects.

Anzu’s ‘relationship’ with Yugi has helped to put many things to rest, but under the surface, a lot more still remains unresolved. Including, lately, her inappropriately hormonal responses to attractive guys. Hell, sometimes, she’s even caught herself looking at Mai way longer than she normally would – only to quickly look away, and find some excuse to talk about the least appealing aspects of childbirth and parenthood.  Anything to get unwanted, predatory thoughts out of her system as quickly as possible.

She turns away, but from the corner of her eyes, she can still see the strangers start to pack up their things, without being able to completely keep their hands off each other. Apparently, he’s telling a very amusing story, judging by the way she’s shaking with laughter while he is rolling up the picnic blanket. A moment later, he puts the thing away and catches her in his arms while she spreads hers, acting out a mocking, but unmistakable imitation of that one scene in ‘Titanic’ that everyone seems to remember.

Suddenly, the idea leaps into her brain. With a smirk, Anzu starts digging through her purse and grabs her phone.

“Ten minutes, your place.”

 

More fifteen than ten minutes later, she finds herself peering through the old-fashioned wrought-iron gates of the Kaiba mansion and feeling less certain that this is the right thing to do. When she came here before, it was always because Seto _wanted_ her there. Today, she invited herself, and she is not even sure what to tell him if he asks for a reason.

But one of his employees is already letting her in – apparently, humble little Mazaki Anzu visiting the Kaiba mansion is no longer a dirty little secret – and once she reaches the top floor hallway, her tension has subsided. Who cares if she has a reason to be here? Does she even need one?  One of her grand resolutions, as an independent woman of the world and all that, had been to stop justifying herself to anyone and everyone. And now she’s going to start all over again, with Seto, of all people?

He doesn’t look like he is expecting her to, judging by the way he’s lounging on the couch and playing with his wine glass. As though a surprise visit from an old friend who you haven’t seen or talked to in two years is the most natural thing in the world. Relieved that he acts the way he always has, Anzu falls back into her old habits – soon, her mp3-player is hooked up to the speakers and the soundtrack of ‘Titanic’ is playing.

It is only now that Seto breaks the silence with a quiet, but piercing laugh.

“Why don’t you turn off that drivel and listen to something that relaxes _you_ for a change?”

He told her, years ago, that listening to this relaxes him, because women like it, and he likes everything that helps him… score. Anzu’s never been sure what to make of this explanation, especially since… well. It’s Seto. Seto, who has never been known to get overly attached to anybody, and while she doesn’t think there is anything wrong with him having casual sex, he never seemed very invested in that, either. But whatever it was that made it worthwhile for him to pursue these relationships… or the image of himself that he projected that way. He is clearly not interested in it anymore. So a different playlist will do. The music stops for a second, and is then replaced by soft guitar strumming and a woman’s voice.

With a lazy flick of his wrist, Seto gestures for her to help herself to some of the wine from the open bottle on the table. But wine won’t do tonight, so after turning down the volume a bit, Anzu marches over to the minibar, to get herself something stronger.

“What would make you think that I’m as picky with my music as you guys? I can relax to just about anything.”

How long it’s been since she always kept a shoulder to cry on and a CD with their favorite music ready for each of her friends! By now, they all found somebody else to keep them company and listen to their rants. All except Seto.

“Come on. You have to have _some_ classics.”

She sinks down on the couch across from him, her only answer a sip from the drink in her hand and a pair of raised eyebrows.

“Well, what did your boyfriend used to play you? If I know anything about you, you must have been a bundle of nerves before your first time. I bet music does wonders to loosen up a dance fanatic like you.”

This conversation certainly doesn’t do anything for her nerves _now_ , and Anzu defensively draws her knees up on the couch, hiding behind the fabric of her billowy pants. Everyone just assumed that she was following some weird German trend when she came back with several pairs of those along with a pretty decent Masters degree. But maybe the real reason why she likes them so much is that they are easy to hide behind.

“I don’t know… why you had to bring this up, but if you really need to know, nobody ever used any music to get into my pants. I’m a virgin.” At 24, she might as well claim never to have been in a car. Or that her favorite dish is unicorn steak.

Seto tucks his feet up on the couch, as well, but with him, it looks more like he is settling in to enjoy a good story. Nothing that will make this guy look defensive, least of all in his own house.

“Don’t tell me you are one of those people who think they need to save themselves for marriage. I would have thought since you and Yugi have been dating for so long…”

Now this, she was not prepared for. Although in Anzu’s mind Yugi, Katsuya and maybe Mai are the only ones in on their little secret, it never occurred to her that it would be news to Seto. She just figured he had heard it from somebody else.

“You do… still talk to your brother, right?” she asks, baffled by his assumption. “He must have told you that he has a boyfriend.”

He nods.

“But he didn’t tell you that boyfriend was Yugi?”

It’s evident from the surprise on his face that he hasn’t. Luckily, it is also evident that he is not going to take the news the way he might have taken it a few years ago. Although his completely calm reaction is almost a little suspicious – surely, Seto is at least disappointed that he did not hear those news from his brother?  
Damn her big mouth.  
Damn speaking before she thinks things through. Even if she didn’t exactly _out_ Mokuba to his brother, this news still wasn’t hers to share.  

“Well, that explains a lot. But it does not explain why you and Yugi feel the need to put on this show.”

Sometimes it is easier to bare your feelings to a complete stranger than to a close friend. Seto isn’t really either of those things, but for some reason, explaining the situation to him feels a hundred times easier than it was with Katsuya. When they tried to explain to him what they were planning, Anzu and Yugi stumbled through a lot of convoluted sentences until they finally found a few that put the point across. Now, the words come to her almost effortlessly.

How everyone just assumed they were the perfect couple, if only because they’d been inseparable since kindergarten, where they’d spent hours playing house and pretending to be princes and princesses. How Yugi realized at some point that he’d never really wanted a happily-ever-after with any princess, and that he might want the kind of family they had pretended to be some day, but certainly not with a woman. How he began to panic and came to the conclusion that his parents, and most of all his grandpa, could never find out.

But also: How Yugi was the last man to ever give Anzu any attention which could have been read as romantic in any way. That is, if you don’t count the English tutor she had for a while. But the interest he had in her was so far removed from genuine interest in her person, his harassment so completely beyond legitimate ‘attention,’ that he doesn’t really belong in this category, either. How a few years and broken hearts later, Anzu kind of accepted that there would be no family for her, not even an unconventional one like the one Yugi might have one day.

And how the two of them came to an agreement: parents and grandparents would get their happy end, they’d play the happy couple for them. Anzu might get her family, because even though sex was out of the question for her and Yugi, they could always adopt. Whether that would ever be an option if she remained single was questionable, after all. And Yugi would be free to have any relationship he wanted, even though it might be a secret one, with the man he’d eventually fall in love with.

“Which turned out to be your brother.”

Seto considers this for a moment. He doesn’t seem entirely convinced, however.

“That’s very well from Yugi’s point of view. But what on earth do you get out of it? Why don’t you just wait until your knight in shining armor DOES show up? Unless… do you play for the other team as well?”

While she was talking, Anzu’s defensive posture has softened, and her muscles have relaxed into a somewhat more natural position. There was hardly anything very personal in this story, after all – apart from the forcedly casual allusion to her teacher, which left a bad aftertaste in her mouth. But it’s not like Seto can tell. Most of what she had do say had to do with Yugi, his feelings and the expectations he felt other people had of him. Now, however, she feels her treacherous throat swell up and has to force herself to swallow hard before she can answer. For some reason, this seems to be what her life is like, and she has accepted it. Or so she keeps telling herself.

“I don’t play for any team. I mean. I don’t know. But I like men. So no. I really don’t know what I should tell you about this that won’t make it sound like I’m just... pitying myself or whatever. But you’d think that at my age… if that was an option for me, I would have had at least one relationship by now. I mean… everyone knows there is nothing in the world _you_ are less interested in. But has that ever stopped a woman from finding you attractive?”

A sweet, coconutty taste fills her mouth again as she takes another sip from the heavy crystal glass in her hand. “It’s not like I’ve never been in love. I just got shot down whenever I did something about it. There wasn’t even one guy who remotely felt something similar for me, whether I returned his feelings or not. I spent a lot of time telling myself it’s probably because I’m not good-looking enough, but… I’m done with that. I know I’m not a model, but I’m not ugly, either. And I have friends who like spending time with me so… my personality doesn’t seem to be completely off-putting. There has to be something else about me that keeps every single guy on this planet from noticing me. I don’t know what it is but – I’d rather just make my peace with it than get my heart broken again and again.”

She may have accepted this on the surface, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t bother her anymore. It bothers her to talk about it, and the shame of admitting something that makes her feel like she is broken and unlovable, while simultaneously feeling like she is making a show of her misery and begging for attention, creeps hot across her skin. At the same time, Anzu’s mind keeps wandering back to the scene at the park which she witnessed earlier, and all the times tonight when she has glanced at Seto not quite as casually as she wanted it to seem, and she wonders if shame is all that she is feeling. The longer she is without a relationship, the more she also feels like she is craving something. Something she can’t entirely put into words, or is too ashamed to try, but knows full well is mostly sex. Intimacy, at the very least.

Anzu had expected Seto to nod and accept her explanation; after all, he was always a big believer in not putting your heart into anything, because you would just end up having it broken.

To her surprise, however, he shakes his head.

“That really does not sound like you. Isn’t it a waste of your best and most obnoxious talent if you don’t allow yourself to preach love about anything and everything?”

The sarcastic smile on his face is definitely the Seto she knows, but there is a different tone in his voice. A tone that sounds surprisingly sincere. When did this happen? Since when is Seto ‘you’re all beneath me anyway’ Kaiba a silent observer who doesn’t just use his analytic capabilities to destroy people, but to actually show some empathy?

Before she can ask, though, there is a knock on the door and the employee who let her in earlier interrupts your conversation.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr Kaiba. You have a call from work, it seems to be urgent.”

Seto shoots her a look that reads ‘I doubt it,’ sighs, and hauls himself off the couch.  
“Excuse me. I hope this won’t take too long. If it does… make yourself at home.” He gestures vaguely at the TV and stereo.

It almost feels like they are back in the old days, when Anzu used to doze on this couch and wait for Seto to catch a break from work so the two of them could talk some more. Only now, it’s Anzu who feels the need to talk, and who might be waiting even more patiently because of this.

Half an hour.

An hour.

After a while, she turns on the TV and starts surfing through the channels, until she realizes that Seto’s TV receives even the most obscure foreign channels, and gets stuck on a German film that she’d been meaning to watch for a while. She had meant to catch it in the cinema, but there were tests to study for and somehow you never got around to it. Her glass slowly empties, and her body grows heavier and sinks into the pillows.

She must have been dozing for quite a while when a rustling sound next to her ear wakes her, because sleep clouds her brain and prickles under her eyelids. But it couldn’t have been too long, the film she was watching is still on. Seto is crouching next to the couch, one hand still on the blanket he was pulling over her shoulders. His other hand is hovering a few centimeters from her face, where it froze when she opened her eyes.

For a few seconds, he just watches Anzu silently, almost methodically, with a distant-but-curious look on his face. Then, the hand begins to move again and sweeps a strand of hair out of her face.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he remarks in a low voice. “You’re not as invisible as you think.”

He pulls back, but almost without thinking, her hand reaches out and grab his arm. Foggy as it is, her brain seems unable to actually take charge of the situation, it just observes from the outside. The thinking, instead, is left to her body.

As though it is the most natural thing in the world, her fingers are suddenly entwined in his hair, and her arms are pulling him towards her. When her move startles him and throws him off-balance for a second, her lips are there to break the fall.

The shock she feel is not exactly coming from the kiss, or from the fact that it takes Seto a heartbeat or two to reciprocate. The thing that sends shockwaves through her body is the somehow both familiar and startling feeling of warm skin on hers. The unsettling sensation of skin that is not hers and yet reacts exactly the way she feels her own body react. It’s not a fierce, violent reaction, on the contrary. Anzu almost feels like they are moving in slow motion, and yet they are both out of breath by the time Seto grabs her hands and gently loosens her grip around his hair.

Luckily, the couch is as enormous as most other parts of this house, so it cradles them like a warm, chestnut-colored nest, but still offers enough room for him to slide under the blanket next to her. He takes her face between his hands again and gently turns her head, as if to look at it more carefully from a different angle. Slowly and deliberately, his gaze wanders across Anzu’s features, before his lips find their way back onto her skin. This time, they find a place where she didn’t even know she was so sensitive, and where her pulse suddenly picks up and begins to beat loudly enough to even drown out her buzzing thoughts.

Seto’s hands slowly remove her clothing and wander across her skin, searching, until they find the hidden knots and twists in Anzu’s limbs and undo them, bit by bit. Here and there, his teeth help with a particularly stubborn one, until finally, all her tangled insecurities are untied and there’s nothing left but the desire pooling between her thighs.  
  
Still, she lifts herself up on her elbows and forces her voice to find the syllables to form his name.  
“Seto, stop.”

His tongue lingers on her belly-button for another heartbeat, and when he finally pulls back, it leaves a warm, moist reminder of all the kisses they just shared. His hands are still resting on Anzu’s hips, both possessive and incredibly casual, but his eyes are trained on her face, questioning.

“I...” She has to start over, her voice won’t serve her right away.

“I always kind of… imagined I would be doing this for the first time with someone who I… you know. Love.”

Something soft and – almost – apologetic plays across his face. Relief? A moment later, their faces are level again.

“Great.”

Another kiss opens her lips, and for one horrifying, heart-stopping moment she thinks he is just going to ignore her protest. The jolt that went through her body must have registered with him, because he instantly pulls back, even if it’s just by a few millimeters, and apologetically places one hand on her abdomen.

“I’ve always wanted to know whether it really makes such a difference to sleep with someone who is actually interested in me… and not in whatever prize they see in me. But if you don’t want to do this, let’s forget about it.”

He sits up slightly, shifting the weight of his body off of hers, and clearly giving her the space to get up and leave, or at least put the physical barrier of her clothes or the blanket between them. His hand vanishes briefly into his pocket, and re-emerges seconds later with a small, smooth package he slides between Anzu’s fingers. “Your choice.”

Did he have this on him the whole time? Did he bring it with him when he came back from his phone call? But by now, the blanket has fallen off his shoulders and into her lap. She can’t hear anything that suggests he is breathing more heavily than usual, but the shirt across his chest vibrates just barely, and there is an alarmingly interesting bulge in his pants and – there are just so many more _interesting_ questions right now.

Still, Anzu sits there for what must be several minutes, just taking in the situation and considering her next move. When she finally reaches out and begins to unbutton his shirt, her hands aren’t trembling, but they feel so awkward that she is almost certain he is going to stop her and undress himself. Instead, he just watches her, and the lower her hands wander, the less it seems like he’s sure of what is going to happen. Surely, by the time she has exposed his chest and pressed a kiss onto the warm skin, he must have realized what her decision was? The look on his face grows more and more uncertain, though, and by the time Anzu has opened the last button, it is definitely worried.

Self-conscious, she lets her hands fall into her lap. “Are you okay? You don’t – _look_ okay.” Shit. That is definitely not what qualifies as sexy talk. “I mean. You do. You know what I mean.” Her face doesn’t heat up, because her entire body already feels like a giant hot water bottle, but the tingling sensation of embarrassment is still the same.

It really should make things worse when he lets out a tiny laugh, but instead, Anzu feel herself relax in relief. So she didn’t do something horrifying, after all. “Yes. Sorry. I’m just not used to… nevermind. So you’re sure?” A smile spreads across her features as she burrows her face against his neck and pulls him down on the couch with her once more. “I’m sure.”


End file.
